


For Whom the Cat Meows

by FireWithFire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bossy Stiles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek finds a kitty, Failwolf Friday, Fluff, Kitty hates Derek, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireWithFire/pseuds/FireWithFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek finds a kitty. Kitty hates Derek. Stiles has to help. It's like the most twisted game of Rock-Paper-Scissors they've ever had to play.<br/>Fluff ahead, because we all suspect that Derek may have a little bit softer side.<br/>Does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Whom the Cat Meows

**Author's Note:**

> I do not pay for the dentist's bills if you get cavities from all the sweetness I might've put here. Stop sending them. Seriously, _stop_.  
>  I'm not sorry.

“What is up, alpha pup?”

“I need you to come here.”

“Derek, if you’re horny, you have to--”

“It’s important. Very important.”

“Fine, give me half an hour.”

“Fifteen minutes. Bye.”

Click, and Derek hung up. Stiles sighed. And it had always been like this. In person, Derek could actually be really friendly (although he rarely exercised that right), properly set up he could pass for “chatty”. But on the phone, it was all the same as always. Growl growl. Bark. Growl bark bark, now. Bye.

Stiles collected his books and strutted out of the library in his signature “yeah, gotta meet my sexy wereboyfriend” walk. Nobody knew what it meant, of course, but he still liked it. He exited the school, got to his jeep and drove to Derek’s loft.

****

*

****

Derek heard some kind of squeaking, squealing or something outside for the whole day. He got up, made himself a mug of coffee and turned on the TV. Stiles had already gone to school and he didn’t care for doing anything until he came back. Then, a dinner, maybe, or he’ll order something.

As soon as that irritating squeak gets away. Even the annoying singing competition that was on the daytime TV couldn’t silence that noise. He walked around the place trying to identify the malfunctioning pipe, dying smoke detector (wait, he hadn’t installed a single smoke detector) or a mouse or a rat that would cause that sound. Nothing. There was nothing wrong with the apartment, nothing wrong with plumbing. Something might’ve been wrong with Derek, though, since he’d just developed a strong case of hearing voices.

He even tried going outside.

Bingo.

On the corridor, right in the middle of it, sat a sad little ball of fluff and fur. More from the scent (how did he not smell that from outside? Living with Stiles must’ve made him not use his senses that much) than from its looks, Derek guessed it was a kitten. After several long minutes he decided to walk up to it and... well, do something about it. Something in him said that leaving it here wouldn’t exactly be the nicest thing to do and one day he may actually get his conscience out of its package (voiding the warranty), and he felt it wouldn’t like having all that to deal with... Oh dear, he started rambling in an inner monologue just as Stiles did aloud.

Anyway, the kitten didn’t look nor smell fine. He tried walking up to it, but it became a fluffier ball of fur and made a hissing noise at him, slowly rolling away.

Seven tries later, it was all the same. Walk, puff, hiss, roll, walk.

It was time for the heavy artillery.

Dialing...

“What is up, alpha pup?”, he heard a whisper on the phone.

****

*

****

“That’s your emergency?”, Stiles said, eyeing the little fluffy ball of sadness on the floor of the corridor.

“Well, yeah.”

“Have you tried picking it up, taking it in and feeding it?”

Derek shot him a scolding glance and demonstrated. Walk, puff, hiss, roll, walk.

“See?”, he said. “I’ve been trying to get to it for at least an hour.”

“Well, you could’ve showered, you know,” Stiles remarked. “You probably stink like a wolf to it, no wonder it’s scared as hell.”

“Are you telling me that I stink, right into my face? Have you no fear?”

“You could’ve showered,” Stiles said evasively.

He went into the apartment and it took him a while to find a towel that probably wouldn’t smell like a predator that much. Derek probably kept himself busy, engaged in a nerve-wrecking psychological warfare with a sweet little kitten outside. He walked back out, and there they were, his two cute boys (yes, he’d made an assumption the kitty was male) just hating each other from an appropriate distance.

Stiles managed to get close enough to the cat to wrap him in the towel, and carried him inside, with Derek following him closely.

“I don’t like having it here,” alpha said, watching Stiles put the kitten on the sofa.

“Honestly, I don’t think it likes being with you either, suck it up. It’s time for your big boy pants. You don’t have a fear of kittens, do you?”

“No, it’s just... we genetically are not very fond of one another.”

Stiles decided to let it slide for now. He somehow managed to uncover the poor creature’s eyes, and as it turned out, it was just unbelievably... tousled. Like it ran through a hurricane, of something. He thought he would need some kind of a pet brush, and he almost asked Derek if he could use his before he realised this question might actually cost him a couple of internal organs. And some limbs, too.

All he could do right then was to try to ‘comb’ the kitty with a towel, to which it reacted pretty well. It started purring and leaned on the towel and Stiles’ hand.

“We need to take him to the vet, I think Scott’s at Deaton’s today, they’re staying late. You stay here. If I put both of you in my car, there’ll be some definite eye-scratching. Mine, probably. By any of you. I’ll go, I’ll be right back. Wait for me.”

“You can leave it there, too,” Derek mumbled. “What? Deaton’s probably going to take good care of it!”, he explained, seeing Stiles’ gaze.

“You stay here!”, he shouted over his shoulder as he left.

“He’s treating me like a dog,” Derek said to himself. “I’ll have to pee in his shoes. Heh, funny. I should write this down and use it later. And stop talking to myself.”

****

*

****

“You’re back. It’s back,” Derek said, visibly unhappy. Only slightly less unhappy than the kitten in Stiles’ arms.

“You showered.”

“What did Deaton say? Why didn’t he keep that little monster?”

“Will you calm down?”, Stiles huffed, putting the kitty back on the sofa, where it sat an hour ago, and frankly, the spot still smelled of cat. “It’s only a kitty. Deaton had like a million dogs over, this little fella peed all over the table. Scott cleaned it,” Stiles chuckled. “But Deaton said that he, yes, it’s a he, was fine, he just needed some pills. And he’ll have to take them for five more days. And we need a box with sand.”

“Why?”

“Do you want him to pee on the floor?”

“Can I not want him to pee at all?”

“Sure, if you can not pee for five days and can we please change the subject? Here are his pills. And, I got some food from the clinic, too. Deaton said he’s old enough to eat that.”

“I hope you have enough clothes for five days.”

“What, you’re holding me hostage with the kitty?”

“Do you think I’m going to take care of it by myself? Look at him, he hates me. He looks at me like I’ve just kicked his fluffy butt.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Sure, big bad wolf Derek Alpha Hale suddenly met his nemesis. And the nemesis came in a form of a pocket-sized kitten. He’d never think that Derek could be so hostile towards something so innocent, so cute and so helpless. But, instead of pondering how the hell did he missed that particular monster in his boyfriend, Stiles went to the kitchen, took two bowls and filled one with water and the other one with cat food.

The kitten perked up his ears at the sound of kibbles falling into the dish. He got up on the sofa backrest and looked over at Stiles (keeping a safe distance from Derek). Then, he jumped down, on the floor (Derek still in mind), and under the sofa. He stayed there, ears low, green eyes wide open and glowing from under the couch, fixed on the bowl. Stiles carefully, slowly walked away, so as not to scare the little thing, and backed away until he got to Derek. He pressed against alpha’s shoulder.

The kitty sprung from his hiding, leapt to the nearest wall and crept to the bowl. It was a little like watching a child who thinks it disappears when nobody can see it. The cat, apparently, was sure that he was invisible as long as he managed to sneak around. When he got to the bowl, Stiles could swear he could hear the gates of Infinity opening, and the teeny tiny kitty managed to suck up a huge portion of the food in seconds.

“Is this thing trying to explode?”, Derek asked, a bit disgusted, but mostly impressed.

“I think he was hungry, like, a lot.”

“If it pukes somewhere, you’re cleaning it up. If it pukes in my shoes, I’ll call the cleaning service to wipe both of you from the walls. Be warned.”

****

*

****

The kitty did puke. Twice. On the floor, thankfully. And yes, Stiles did have to wipe it off. And Derek was getting nowhere near getting warmer feelings for the new inhabitant of his loft. They both circled around each other, always trying to spy where the other one was. All that in case of a little kitty was completely understandable, though in case of big, strong and dangerous Derek it was ridiculous (Stiles also thought it was adorable, but he was a terminal case of Derek-infatuation-itis so what would he know).

They were casually sitting on the sofa (Stiles was more leaning on Derek than actually sitting), when the kitten decided it was going to keep a watch on both of them (probably especially on Stiles, whether or not the big stinky werewolf was going to eat the kitty’s friend) and jumped on an armchair. Derek swiftly turned his head at him, causing him to flinch and hiss.

“Would you stop scaring Strauss?”

“Who?”, Derek asked just to hear it again. He believed his ears tried to screw with him.

“Strauss, Johann Strauss.”

“The composer?”

“The kitty, dumbass. Stop scaring the kitty!”

“I cannot believe you actually named it.”

“Would you please start calling him ‘he’, not ‘it’, please? And yes, I named him. And I think I know exactly who’ll take him once the pill treatment is over.”

“Who?”

“Lydia.”

“The fittest match there is, two monsters in cute forms in one place, they should be together,” Derek muttered.

“Get up, we need to give him his pill.”

They did get up, Derek retreated to the other side of the room, Stiles got the pill. They were all armed and ready. But, apparently, the kitten was unwilling to cooperate. And was really badly trained, he didn’t even react to Stiles’ “Say ‘aaah’” command. He kept his mouth shut and refused to even look at the pill.

“It’s not so easy, huh?”, Derek joked from afar.

“If I managed to give you a pill once, I can do it this time.”

“That was different, the pill was disgusting and I was nauseated as hell.”

“I’m sure this pill tastes like bacon, Johann is just strictly a seventh degree vegan, he doesn’t eat anything that casts a shadow.”

Still, there was no progress. Stiles tried gently holding Strauss by the head and opening his mouth with his other hand, but then, he was one hand short of putting the pill in its destination. All he could think of was to spit it in, but that was just disgusting and he didn’t really want to try that one unless proven necessary.

Derek thought that he may be able to help here. He really could, he just really didn’t want to. The fluffy spawn of pure evil was now Stiles’ trouble. A trouble that needed its pill. Derek would really laugh at the attempts, but he knew that would probably result in withholding sex for a couple of days, and the full moon was coming (that’s always a good excuse for more sex even if the moon has nothing to do with Derek’s libido).

“Any ideas?”, Stiles said, exasperated, standing up. “Strauss is not cooperating, could you?”

“You have to hold it down.”

“Really? You think? Pure genius, ladies and gentlemen, please line the prizes up in front of the door for him. Help me maybe?”

“How? You know it would run away as soon as I come close.”

“Bribe.”

Stiles’ idea was simple and, supposedly, possibly, brilliant. He brought some kibbles and made a tiny pile in front of Johann. Then, while he ate, Stiles wrapped him in a towel, carefully, cautiously, and held him tight.

“Now!”, he shouted, and Derek jumped from behind, with one swift move he opened the kitty’s mouth and put the pill in.

“There.”, Derek said, looking at his hands with pure disgust. After all, he touched cat’s saliva with those, so now he might probably be forced to cut them off.

“See, wasn’t that hard, was it?”, Stiles said, not specifically to Derek nor Johann, petting the kitty’s head and stroking alpha’s arm.

Derek retreated to the bathroom to put some... boiling detergent on his hands before they fall off, and Stiles went to the kitchen to make them tea as a reward. They both heard a sound similar to a cough, maybe, and came back to see the sweet little Johann Strauss chomping the kibbles, with a pill spit out next to them.

“Yeah, the food he wolfs down, oh, sorry, no offence, he cleans the food like a vacuum, but swallowing a pill, no, why would he,” Stiles growled so well Derek was impressed. “We have to do it again, and that’s gross, because the pill is all... covered in spit and icky, so please, don’t say a thing and help me.”

Derek was actually a bit scared, but mostly turned on. The bossy, angry Stiles always worked him up a lot. He suppressed it, though, and prepared to engage the new plan. He took over cat-holding duties while Stiles tried to feed it the pill.

Despite Derek’s grab, Johann managed to wiggle his way out of the towel and torpedoed through Stiles’ arm, leaving long bleeding lines behind him.

“Ow! Jesus, Derek, you can throw me on a wall like I’m a feather, but a kitten just walks out of your hands?!”, he hissed, eyes shooting lightning bolts at the werewolf in front of him.

“If I held it down harder, I could break its back! Go and disinfect those, hell knows what it has on those claws...”, Derek finished lamely, trying to calm the raging teenager down a little.

With band-aids on his arm, Stiles spent the better part of the next hour trying to figure out a way of capturing this little furry ninja, holding him down and applying the pill. This time, Derek really tried to help, mainly by scaring the stupid cat out from under the furniture. Finally, after a long struggle, Stiles held the kitty down on the floor and Derek switched with him, to that the teenager could put on those huge gloves they once bought while painting the loft, but never actually used. Strong and sturdy, they alone stood a small chance of holding their ground against the razor sharp clawsies. Stiles opened Johann’s mouth, put the pill in and held the cat’s mouth closed until he heard a soft gulp. There, the pill was swallowed.

“I’ll clean up,” Derek offered, seeing that Stiles just took off the gloves and jumped on the sofa. Alpha gathered all that was left on the floor (the cat suddenly disappeared, dematerialising from the towel and into thin air.

After putting it all back where it belonged (or, honestly, just throwing it into the nearest cabinet), Derek joined Stiles in front of the TV and dragged him closer to cuddle a little.

“Inside, you’re a big fluffy puppy, you know that?”, Stiles muttered, finding a comfortable position. “You love to cuddle, that kind of shatters that whole Big-Bag-Alpha impression.”

“Nobody has to know. If you tell anyone, no more cuddling for you. You’re hot,” Derek remarked after a short pause.

“Thanks, but have you seen you?”

“No, I mean, well, that too, but you’re all hot and a bit sweaty from that cat-chasing. You sure you don’t have to take the shirt off?”

“You know, I may not have the eyesight of a wolf, but I see what you did there. Fine, be it your way,” Stiles laughed, taking off his shirt and leaning in to kiss Derek.

Push came to shove, soon enough the werewolf got rid of his shirt too, and Stiles’ pants seemed a bit redundant as well, so to hell with them.

“Stiles,” Derek said, breaking their kiss.

“Yeah,” the teenager answered not even putting one thought into it, absorbed by his boyfriend’s lips and body.

“Stiles.”

“Uhm.”

“Stiles!”, Derek said sternly, pushing him away a bit.

“What?”, Stiles moaned, a bit disappointed, a little concerned.

“It’s looking at us,” alpha said, pointing to the table.

There he was, Johann Strauss in his own fluffy self, eyeing them both from the coffee table right next to the sofa. All they could see were his eyes, green as hell and staring at both of them, and his ears, twitching every couple of seconds. Oh, and his tail kept flailing around like it had a brain of its own.

“So what?”

“It’s looking. At us.”

“Are you afraid we’ll scar him for life?”, Stiles huffed.

“No make-outs in front of it.”

“Alright, fine. He makes me uncomfortable, too, to be honest. I can say that now my blood found its way back to my brain,” Stiles sighed, leaning back and sitting on the sofa like a regular person, gathering his clothes and putting them back on as well.

Derek could swear, the cat did it on purpose. He could swear it shot him a scolding look of disapproval. And it looked at Stiles like it was trying to say ‘see, this big stinky wolf won’t try to bite your face off anymore’. Sadly enough, that little bastard was kind of right. Derek automatically got turned off as soon as that little harbinger of all that’s evil laid its drilling little eyes on him. It forced him to keep his distance and limit the kisses to minimum.

Little prude.

****

*

****

Days went by pretty much the same. Stiles came back from school, freed Derek from the duties. He then had to feed the cat (because the kibbles stink ‘to holy hell and back’), clean the litterbox that Lydia had bought and brought (same reason), pet the kitty so it wouldn’t go wild and scared again, pet Derek so he wouldn’t go wild and grumpy again, then stop petting Derek because Johann was watching. Then, the pill-giving time came, and for the next two hours Strauss would look at Stiles like had betrayed his little fluffy trust. He basically looked like that at Derek all the time.

On the fifth day, though, Stiles had to stay late in school, working on a dumb science project, as if he went back to the sixth grade again. He rushed back home-- To Derek’s loft, he corrected himself a couple of times during the day. He rushed back to Derek’s loft. It was well after dark. He came in and quietly closed the door behind him. On the kitchen counter, he found an empty blister he got from Deaton.

“Derek gave him the pill? Impossible...”

Both Derek and the cat were nowhere to be seen, so he tried his luck and went upstairs.

On the bed laid Derek, on his back, shirtless, in his sweatpants. He had one hand behind his head, the other one hung from the bed. His eyes were closed and his chest moved slowly up and down as he breathed. On his stomach laid a little furry ball named Johann Strauss.

****

*

****

Derek heard Stiles come in and rumble downstairs. He immediately stopped petting the cat that laid on his stomach about an hour ago. A bit panicked, he tried to pretend he was asleep. He tried to listen, and could swear Stiles found the blister on the counter, judging from the sound it made.

Derek managed to feed Johann the pill quite smoothly, actually.

In fact, for the past two days they managed to get along nicely, at least as nice as a wolf and a kitten could. They stopped circling around each other, Johann came for petting from time to time. They even took naps together on the sofa when Stiles was in school and couldn’t see them.

Derek heard steps on the stairs. He closed his eyes and evened his breath.

Stiles stopped at the door and the werewolf knew he was fighting with himself not to melt and not to go ‘awww’ really loudly, he learned to smell it on Stiles.

After a short rustling fit (taking his clothes off), Stiles softly laid down next to Derek. He breathed faster for a while and lightly kissed Derek on the cheek.

“I know you’re not sleeping. You’re making this fake-sleepy noise. I hope you know I appreciate you bonded with Johann. You’re just a big soft puppy, I’m telling you. Goodnight,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear and cuddled with him to go to sleep. “Just remember, tomorrow he’s going to Lydia’s.”

Derek remembered. He had already met with Lydia and planned a visiting schedule so he could meet the cat every once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> It all came out as a result of me reading a fic about a kitten, Derek and Stiles, which was very short. I said to [ateverbti](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ateverbti/works) "I could seriously write this in like 3,5k.", and she said "So do!". How could I say no to that?


End file.
